Feels like New
by Yagton
Summary: AU Soul just moved to a new town, which means a whole new school and new people. Out of everyone, there's one person he can't stop being curious about, for reasons he'd rather not elaborate on. Shonen-ai later on
1. A New Town

"I hate moving…" Soul grumbled, staring out the dirty window with his chin on a fist. Houses leapt by, nothing but cookie-cutters that all seemed to have the same five boring colors set on repeat. Running his free hand through his strictly white hair, he thought, _So this is the goddamn neighborhood where I get to live now… Greeeaaaaat… _Unfortunately, his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp feeling on his shoulder. "Ow!"

Wearing a smile that was one notch away from smelling faintly of sadism, Maka pulled her fist back from where it had just landed. "C'mon, Soul, we haven't even been here for ten minutes. Why do you have such a problem giving things a chance?" She sighed, golden-brown eyes sliding closed, and leaned back against the car seat, the soft leather scrunching underneath her body. "Then again, I guess I should be glad you don't up and change at a moment's notice. You always _have_ been insensitive and stupid."

"You should be glad I don't sock you…" Soul mumbled under his breath, knowing full well he wouldn't go through with his threat. Unfortunately for him, his sister could be provoked by the dropping of a pin. There had to be something mentally wrong with a girl who could spout bullshit for an eternity, then turn around and punch someone for saying a few measly words. Words were just words, right? Not like they meant something unless one went through with them. Grimacing and lightly tugging at his orange shirt's collar, he moaned, "Are we there yet?"

"Hmph. You're way too impatient, Soul. When we get there, the car'll stop."

_Gawd, I wish that damn seatbelt would get a mind of its own and wrap itself around her mouth…_

"Now, now, don't worry, we're almost there! Just a little more! I'll betcha can't wait to see the house your daddy got, right, my precious little Maka?"

It was an honest-to-God wonder how Spirit, their father, could say things like that, turn around, and smile at Maka with eyes closed, and yet manage to not hit any pedestrians. The man had to have some of the best luck when it came to driving… And driving only. Soul had to admit, it was slightly unnerving how his father could be so lucky and yet be such a screw-up at the same time. Why couldn't he have a cool dad, one that paid attention to him and didn't spend every waking moment doting upon Maka? "Maka" this, "Maka" that, "Maka" so much it made Soul want to just open the car window and scream as loud as he could. But, alas, doing so would mean receiving another beating from Maka. Life was so unfair…

"Hey, dad," he finally said after moments of debating whether or not to take things any further. "Correct me if I'm mistaken, but I'm still here, right? I _am_ still your son, right?" Fuming, he didn't bother to listen to his father's response, provided one even came. Spirit had a tendency to drown out anything that didn't come from Maka's ridiculously oversized mouth. As he had done so many times in the past, Soul lent himself to daydreaming of creating an eraser that could take Maka's mouth right out of the equation.

Soul must've fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, he was being shook. Mumbling and opening his eyes groggily, he looked around and out the dingy window. A modest-looking blue house with slightly chipped white trim stood outside, looking alien against the bright yellow grass that probably hadn't been watered in a month. Rubbing his eyes softly, Soul blinked again, and, much to his chagrin, nothing changed. He was beginning to really wish he had that magic eraser.

"Hey." Maka shook his shoulder again. "We're here."

"Like I couldn't figure that out for myself…" Soul grumbled under his breath, once again doing everything he could to avoid the cold and cruel fist of his older sister. Unbuckling himself, Soul pushed the car door open and took a cautious step out. He stretched his arms up towards the sky and released a yawn that had probably been building up inside of him for the entire trip. So, this dump was where he was going to be living now…

His yawn lazily transformed into a defeated sigh. So much for giving the place a chance; it didn't even deserve that. If he had the choice, he would run away and not look back, and maybe join the circus. Anything to get away from his overly-annoying dad and abusive sister. But he had little choice; he didn't even have his driver's license yet.

"Soul!" Spirit called, waving from the front porch. "Grab your bag and come on in!"

Not even pretending to be interested, Soul snatched his measly bag from within the car and stepped over grass that crunched – _crunched_, for God's sake – and hopped up over the front steps, striding into the house. As he glanced around, he couldn't help but be slightly impressed. The place was actually kinda clean. As in, the carpets were freshly vacuumed, there was very little dust on the fixtures, and the handrails were polished and gleaming. A little. Soul was glad there wasn't a casino around, because he would've jumped at the opportunity to bet against his father being a clean person; he also would've lost that bet, and Maka would've reprimanded him in such a way that he could never enjoy food again. Once again, Soul lamented on how unfair life was, and how he wished he could have a different family; any family but his.

After pretending he had to lug his bag upstairs, he wearily tossed the thing against the tiny, twin-sized bed in the room designated for him. Soul wished he could go back to that bet, and bet that only his room, _only_ his room, would be the dirty one in the house. The walls were barren and white, like some snowy tundra, and some of the corners were already starting to lose paint in fun-shaped chips, letting the dreary gray drywall show through. A single light switch was probably meant for the laughable excuse for a light, which was just a lightbulb half-hanging, half-screwed into the ceiling. And matters were only made better when Soul flicked the switch and found out it did diddly-squat. "Shit…" he moaned, pushing his bag off the bed and flopping down on it, careful not to hit his head against the headboard, which was way too close… "This day just keeps getting better and better…" Lying with his hands folded underneath his head, Soul thought about his old life. Old friends, old school, so much familiarity, and in an instant, it was gone. Now he was in a shitty house with no one but his father and Maka. Where was the door, he just wanted to get off…

Dinner wasn't much better. Spirit had decided to try and alleviated the weird feelings his kids had to be having by ordering out. Normally, this wouldn't have been so bad, and Soul and Maka hoped that they would just be able to get a decent pizza and call it a day. All dreams of that were dashed, however, when the woman delivering the pizza turned up at the door in barely a bikini, holding a box with the name "Greased Up Slices" on it. Although, Soul decided, it was kinda nice watching his father get the cold (and a throbbing) shoulder from Maka instead of himself for once.

"B-But, Maka! Look, daddy got some nice pizza for you, and he loves you very much!"

"Geez, we haven't been here for a day and you're already acting like a pervert," Maka growled, her eyebrows twitching whenever she looked at the very suggestive garlic cloves that made up the pizza box's logo. Throughout the rest of the meal, she didn't speak a word, though her eyes did make a lot of transitions between the box and somewhere suspiciously close to her own chest.

Sounds of munching and slurping were the only things that could be heard for the first half of the meal. Soul was uninterested in pretty much everything, Maka was looking between those two spots, and Spirit was watching Maka like a dog that had been shunned by its master. Those big puppy-dog eyes of his were wasted, though, because they elicited no response.

Giving up, Spirit reclined back in his chair, eating on his fourth piece of pizza and desperately looking for something to talk about in order to break the silence. "So, ummm…" He tried his hand at grinning casually, which resulted in him looking somewhat like a mad serial killer. "You two start school up tomorrow, huh?"

"Uh-huh," Soul mumbled, licking at the corners of his mouth to get some stray, rather tasty, cheese. The woman at the door hadn't been dressed like a businesswoman, of course, but Soul couldn't deny that she'd delivered. A voice in the back of his head chuckled and told him that food wasn't the only thing she was good at delivering. And by his father's lack of shame at her appearance, Soul surmised that Spirit had had personal experience. That was one thing he could easily agree with Maka on: Spirit Albarn was the world's biggest pervert.

"So…are you guys excited?" Spirit persisted, not even caring that tiny bits of mushroom and pepperoni were flying free onto the tablecloth. At this pointed, he wanted more than two words from his children. "I mean, a new school, new people… Gotta be exciting, right? …No? Then how about nerve-racking? …Scary? C'mon, you two, you can confide in daddy that you're scared!" He glanced excitedly at Maka and Soul, hoping beyond the pervading hopelessness that either of them would speak. In fact ,even he was beginning to give up hope when Soul closed his eyes and opened his mouth.

"…Your breath smells like shit and anchovies, dad."

Cue Spirit raising his hands to the heavens and yelling, loudly asking why his children had to be so insensitive. It was so melodramatic that whatever appetite remained in Maka and Soul was whisked away, and they both promptly stood up at the same time. Proclaiming to ears that were too busy lamenting to hear them that they were full, both headed up the stairs, jostling for the handrail.

Maka could not look more displeased. Her eyebrows were knitting together and she had a death grip on the railing. "I can't believe that…that whorish delivery girl. Walking around like that, how can someone have no self-respect?"

Soul grinned and his hands dove into his pockets. "Aww, c'mon, Maka. Jealous cuz she had knockers and it'd be a compliment to say you have a doorbell?" He knew before saying so that it would get him a (well-deserved) punch on the shoulder, but the opportunity simply couldn't be passed up. For Soul, teasing his sister was the ultimate highlight of life. But those moments were gone just as suddenly as they were known to arrive, so after his sister made a recovery, Soul was no longer tempted to be giddy. Instead, he was possessed to wander to that shithole some people might call a room, and lay down on a bed that wasn't even long enough to accommodate his legs, let alone his entire body. His mind considered many things, like how he was probably going to have to paint the room and fix the wiring all by himself. Thankfully, he was good that kinda stuff; unlike two certain people who just happened to be in the same house with him.

With a sigh, Soul threw his shirt off and let his head fall down against the pillow, which was actually soft like down. _Fuck…_ he thought. _School tomorrow… I ain't gonna know anyone. This officially sucks…_ Closing his eyes, Soul remembered all the times he thought that closing his eyes would drown out his parent yelling at each other. It had never worked. In accordance, it didn't help to alleviate his anxiety.

* * *

><p>"New students? COOOOOL!"<p>

Soul didn't even try to hide his scowl as he stood up in front of the class, hands trying to dig deeper into his pockets. Not like it was his idea to be put up in front of the room like he was on display or anything, but it was the normal fare. However, a kid with spiky blue hair jumping up on his desk was by no means normal.

"Let me be the first to welcome you! I'm the most awesomest, greatest kid at this whole place! You are free to think of me as a God! My name is Black*Star and I'm pleased to meetcha, Soul Albarn!" Soul didn't think his scowl made it to the boy's brain, provided he had one. He stood up there, the most ridiculous grin on his face, and refused to get down until the teacher, Dr. Stein, threatened to fail him. After the painfully embarrassing introduction, Soul played it off casually and sat down in his desk, near the middle of the room. Thankfully, it was in a class that lacked one thing: Maka Albarn. And Soul was pleased by this.

"Okay, if you will look this way, class, I'll get started on today's dissection." The rest of the room seemed to give one collective groan. Soul wasn't too interested in any dissecting, either, but he figured he'd at least behave himself on the first day.

And that was when he learned that nothing ever went his way. Before Soul could even blink, the blue-haired boy, Black*Star, was squatting up on his desk. Grimacing in disgust, Soul bluntly asked, "What the hell are you doing?"

Black*Star gave Soul a hearty thumbs-up. "Welcome to school, dude. I'm the official welcome wagon, and I'm here to tell you that you and I will be the best of friends!" He sighed warmly, almost romantically, which made Soul wish that the desks weren't placed so close together; otherwise, he'd have scooted back 5 or 10 feet to put as much distance between himself and the kid as possible. "Anyway, Soul, now that you've got the jitters outta the way," he said as he gave Soul a one-sided high-five, "I'd like ya to meet someone." He motioned to a boy a few rows over, who looked positively outraged that he was being called.

Jumping over a few kids and their desks, he landed with a grimace. "What do you want?"

"Soul, this is Kidd. He's the son of our school's principal," Black*Star explained, pinching Kidd's cheek. "He's so fun to mess with." Smiling triumphantly, he hopped down from Soul's desk to let the boy have a closer look at the new student.

Kidd took some glances, and then investigated a little more thoroughly, before clutching his head with both his hands. "Y-You…" With a wailing sob, his feet gave out from under him and he sank to Soul's desk, reduced to almost crying on it. "Y-You're the very opposite of symmetrical…! Uneven hair, markings on your jacket, a crooked headband… Why, God, why?"

Feeling quite disturbed by this outburst, Soul looked to Black*Star, who shrugged. "I dunno, either, but he has this thing about symmetry. Freaks him out if things aren't lined up perfectly. You'll get used to it, sure, but it's still so fun to tease him abo-!" Unfortunately, he couldn't finish what he was saying as a rather large book, entitled "The Discerning Scientist's Guide to Animal Anatomy" crashed into the side of his head, sending him sprawling to the floor.

"Now, once Black*Star has finished talking," Dr. Stein said, adjusting his glasses and the odd screw-like thing in his head, "I'd like you to get into your groups and start by cutting off the rat's fur." More groans rose up as the students unwillingly got to their feet and lethargically glided over to their work stations. As the new kid, he had no lab group and felt utterly alone.

That was, until he heard a familiar voice. "Hey, Soul, come join us!" Black*Star was waving from a station with Kidd and a tall, raven-haired girl. Deciding that, although the boy was annoying and Kidd was a grade-A nutcase, he should go over, Soul hopped a few chairs and landed right next to the three. Grinning, Black*Star said, with his arm around the girl, "Soul, I haven't introduced you to my lovely girlfriend, Tsubaki, the luckiest girl in the world for dating the most awesomest person ever!" Soul chuckled as Kidd got to work slicing the fur off, since every cut had to be "perfect and symmetrical, or else it will be an affront to everything decent," and he scanned the room to see what other sort of people were there.

"…Hey, Black*Star." Soul tugged on his arm, pulling the blue-haired boy away from Tsubaki. Soul pointed with a long, spindly finger towards the back corner of the room. "Who's that?" The person in question had pink hair in an odd sort of cut; not quite a bowl cut, but definitely not something that just naturally happened. Whoever it was had on a black robe that covered up everything but the head and hands of this person.

Black*Star peered out and nodded. "That's just Crona," he told Soul. "He's really quiet and awkward, and never really does anything. I heard he just barely has a C in this class (whereas _I_ have an A). Don't worry about him, he won't bother you."

But Soul couldn't stop looking at Crona, sitting dejectedly in that corner with no one to interact with. Somehow, it was reminiscent of how Soul himself had felt the day before – anxious, nervous, and shy, though he'd never admit to those things aloud. Crona was merely looking down at desk, not even pretending to look around. "Kid looks pretty lonely," Soul mused to himself. Maybe he should go say something, say hello or some shit to at least get Crona to speak up.

His thoughts were thrown back to the dissection as Black*Star announced to the whole class that under his guidance, Kidd had performed the most magnificent hair removal in the history of ever. Soul couldn't stop himself from chuckling a tiny bit. Black*Star may have been annoying, but he was good for a laugh. But even as soul picked up the small incision knife and pressed it down into the dead rat's flesh, he couldn't help but glance back at Crona one more time. And it seemed like when he pushed the knife in, Crona gave a small jump.

* * *

><p>AN: Well, there you go. First chapter done, many more to come. It's actually harder than I expected to write without referring to Crona as a girl or a boy. But that problem will be solved, hopefully soon. And sorry if the characters seem a little OOC.<p> 


	2. First Day

Soul had Crona for one more class other than biology. He hadn't noticed at first, but in trigonometry, if he peered back while everyone else was diligently working on the homework, he could see odd, pink-haired Crona sitting as far away from the front as one could get; right back in the corner of the room, where there was little light from the freshly cleaned windows. Soul was able to notice that Crona hadn't even opened the math textbook (courage he secretly yearned for, for he despised math), and most likely wasn't even aware of the assignment.

The assignment…! The inquisitive expression melted off of Soul's face as though it had been shoved inside an oven. The teacher, Mr. Barrett (who had insisted upon Soul calling him by his first name, Sid) had just so happened to dish out the assignment from hell on the new student's first day there. Thirty problems of in-your-face, what-the-fuck numbers and letters and shapes that made absolutely no sense. Soul had never been good at math (or really any subject that he didn't give a damn about enough to apply himself in), but back at his old school, he'd at least had friends to help him out. _Great thinking, Dad… You just had to go do the shit you do, and now I'm here where no one even knows me…_

Glancing up at the clock, which refused to work correctly and go at the right speed, Soul bit his bottom lip. Where in fuck was he going to need to know what the surface area of a cube was? And why were these teachers so adamant that you needed to get straight A's in order to succeed in life? Apparently, Soul's father had been a dedicated student, with the occasional B, and look where his life was…

"Alright, class," Sid announced, standing up from his desk, his oversized basketball sleeveless dancing a tiny bit against the oddly colored skin of his. "It's been 20 minutes, and you may now work in groups for the rest of the period. You kids need to be able to do these problems by yourself, but I believe that people can figure out a lot when working together. That's the kind of man I was." He promptly sat back down, going back to typing on the computer that every member of the faculty had like a madman. And for a moment, the air was still with people continuing to wonder why Sid always talked about the man he "was," the not the man he happened to be at the present moment. But the confusion was whisked away as students clamored together, talking about pretty much anything but trig.

Once again, Soul was left by himself, a position which he abhorred. Back at his old school, he could be the center of attention without having to do so much as take a breath. But here…? This school was a brand new environment, where the boy had nothing to his credit, and he might as well have been a shadow on the wall. Groaning to himself, Soul ran a finger down the spine of his math textbook. Why couldn't even that annoying Black*Star be here? Oh, right – _he_ had remedial algebra this period, because he "didn't want others to get jealous of my amazing skills." What an idiot…

It was at that point that Soul glanced back to the back of the room, and he saw that Crona was still sitting there, lonely and quiet as ever. And Soul decided that now might as well be as good a chance as any to introduce himself and maybe get at least a little help. Scooping up his textbook and notebook in one fell swoop, he made his way through the tiny masses of giggling girls and their magazines to the darker side of Sid's class. The air didn't feel quite as fresh back here; somehow, it felt more stagnant and smelled a little like rotten eggs. The air even tasted bitter; bitter like a freshly-cut piece of rhubarb. Soul's nose wrinkled and for the first few moments, he had a fleeting suspicion that he might make a wonderful first impression on the teacher by throwing up. Fortunately for him, the queasiness passed and he set his things down on the desk next to Crona.

With a squeak, Crona turned to face whoever it was, and brought a thin set of knees up to hug against a chest that was just as thin. Trembling, Crona looked away, then back to Soul, then quickly away again. Those eyes, Soul noted, were unusually small in the large sockets that held them, and everything about this kid's features was turned down and depressing.

"…Hey," Soul began, not really sure of what else to say to the kid who looked about ready to curl up on the floor into the fetal position.

"H-He's talking to me. Th-The new k-kid is…talking to me… I-I don't know how to deal with new people…" Crona whispered shakily, voice sounding as though it could shatter into a thousand pieces at any given moment. But there was something else about that voice – not the high pitch nor the lack of clarity with which is carried itself, but an…airiness, a wispiness that was somewhat intriguing. Completely in character and predictable, but intriguing nonetheless. It somehow caught Soul offguard for a second before he regained himself and cleared his throat.

"I was wondering if you could help me with the assignment." Soul wasn't about to disguise the quality of his own voice that shouted out that he didn't want to ask for help, nor did he want to do the work. In his mind, there was no point in lying about something so stupid and plainly obvious. So his eyes merely watched the odd child next to him squirm uncomfortably, as though searching for any sort of way out of the classroom that didn't involve smashing glass.

Crona's body tightened, fingers trembling against the knees that were almost invisible beneath the long black robe that appeared suspiciously like a dress. "…I-I don't like math," Crona finally confessed, voice lighter than a feather and barely carrying on the barely-moving air. "I don't know how to deal with it…"

_Huh_, Soul thought to himself. _That's twice the kid's said 'I don't know how to deal with it…' I mean, I know Black*Star said Crona's quiet and awkward, but damn…! This is like looking at a car wreck…! _Being lost in thoughts equated to Soul seeming to "stare" at Crona, causing the kid to squirm even more and sink into the desk, wanting nothing more than to escape. Glancing at the desk, then quickly at Soul, then at the window, and finally the door (which was being guarded like a hawk under the very watchful eyes of Sid), Crona had to give in and admit there was no hope to get out of the class.

"…So, are you gonna help me with the work or not?" The hair on the back of Crona's neck stood on end as Soul once again asked. Answering questions was far from Crona's strong suit; it always seemed that something incorrect would be said, and incorrect answers were terrible, horrible things; painfully horrible things.

Should Crona answer this person who was nice enough to sit down and talk, or should the safe path be taken? Teeth clacking together, the kid's head swayed back and forth as though it were setting on an unstable table, a few screws being the only thing that kept it from toppling over completely. "I-I don't…know how to deal with pressure…"

Which left Soul feeling utterly confused.

* * *

><p>"What? You mean you actually talked to Crona?" Black*Star's eyes were wide, and he was literally leaning over the lunch table, staring right at Soul's face. The boy was barely even blinking, and his mouth shaped like a round little o in surprise.<p>

Soul took a sizeable bite of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "Yeah," he said, mouth full and little flecks of bread launching themselves onto the table and, quite often, Black*Star's fingers. "Asked the kid to help with math. But Crona didn't say much, just 'I can't deal with this.'"

"That's Crona's usual fare," Kidd calmly informed Soul, arranging mashed potatoes and peas on his plate so that no side had any more or less than the other. In his opinion, before a meal could be properly eaten, it first had to be perfectly symmetrical; as a consequence, he rarely had time to eat during lunch period. "Can't deal with much, that one."

Black*Star, however, was still riveted to Soul. "Cool! It took me a week when I first met the kid to get even a word! You may have surpassed God in one way, Soul Albarn!" He almost leapt forward to give Soul a big cuddly teddy bear hug, but was denied by Soul scooting down. He had noticed Crona in the lunchroom, sitting in the corner all alone, with nothing but a few little scraps of food on the table.

"…Hey, guys," Soul inquired, slowly turning away. "Is Crona a boy or a girl?"

All the sense of joy was swept off of the table at that very instant. Black*Star sat back down, twiddling his thumbs and looking to Tsubaki for support; she just sat there and smiled softly, like she was known to do, and offered little to nothing for an answer.

Kidd cleared his throat after a minute or so of uncomfortable silence, and said, rather bluntly, "We don't know."

"Huh?" Soul raised an eyebrow, definitely not expecting that answer. "I mean, yeah, the kid's pretty androgynous, but what do you mean you don't know?"

"We mean just that," Kidd replied, one eye on Soul and the other on his plate, trying desperately to place a pea perfectly. "We have no idea whether Crona is a boy or girl. I've done some digging through my father's records trying to figure it out, but there's nothing on any of the transcripts, schedules, or certificates. Crona has even been able to waive P.E., and that would've been the easiest way for us to find out; I'm pretty sure Crona's mother had something to do with that one." His attention immediately turned to the infernal pea, and why the hell it wouldn't just stay where it was so the symmetry could be flawless.

Sighing, Soul stole another glance over at Crona, who had touched nothing, and was just sitting and staring off into blank infinity. "…Has anyone ever just gone and asked?" he mused, mostly to himself. But it was evidently loud enough for the others at the table to hear. A hush fell over them, silent as the child they were discussing.

"…Are you crazy?" Black*Star asked. "There's no way we can ask Crona. No way in hell."

"He's right," Kidd continued, having finally gotten the pea positioned in the right spot so that his entire plate was the very vision of immaculate symmetry, and he could now go to work ruining said symmetry in the name of survival. "I mean, I tried once, but I couldn't get past the greeting with Crona nearly breaking down. It'd be best if you just left the kid alone; nothing good'll come out of sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong."

While Soul had to give in and admit they were right, he couldn't help but be curious. He was just about to get up and go over to Crona when Maka sat down beside him, effectively blocking his view and closing all means of exit; when Maka was around, Soul could rest assured that he wouldn't leave until either the bell rang or she permitted him to go. And she never permitted him to.

"Who are these weirdos?" Maka asked, setting down the brown paper bag she was carrying. "New friends of yours, Soul?"She slipped out of the bag, much to her displeasure, a slice of pizza, along with a white notecard that had been scribbled over. Soul imagined it had to be from Spirit, in an attempt to apologize to his daughter and win back her good graces. Once again, the boy couldn't help but giggle to himself as his sister looked at the pizza and then at her own chest.

Black*Star, acting much to his self-appointed title of the school's welcome wagon, hopped up onto the table, disturbing the symmetry of Kidd's plate and sending him into a depression. "Pleased ta meetcha!" the blue-haired boy nearly shouted, a silly yet sincere smile on his face. He extended his gloved hand towards Maka, who refused at first. "I'm Black*Star, the most awesomest person alive at this school! Even the teachers are jealous, that's why they give me bad grades!" And somehow, he got through to Maka, who smiled (albeit slightly nervously) and shook his hand.

Grumbling with displeasure, Soul relented and introduced Maka. "Guys and Tsubaki, this is Maka. She's my…sister." He sighed, knowing that sooner or later he was going to have to do it. Now seemed to be the perfect opportunity to just get it over with.

"Wow, you're kinda hot!" Black*Star exclaimed, and everyone at the table could only guess at whether he was aware of himself when he spoke. "Isn't she, Soul?"

"NO, SHE ISN'T!" Soul nearly shrieked, his large canine teeth aimed at the blue-haired boy with vicious, feral intent. Covering his mouth and lowering his voice, he continued with a hiss. "She's my sister, you retard!" It seemed like something had finally gotten to Black*Star, because he raised his hands in defeat and sat back down, fingers intertwining with Tsubaki's.

Folding his hands in a sort of professional, interviewer manner, Kidd glanced a tiny bit ruefully at his friend, then turned his attention to Soul and Maka. "So, you two just got here, right? Just needed a change of scenery?"

Maka shook her head. "No, we came here with our father, and now we're living with him. And he'd better have cleared all those filthy magazines out of the house like I told him to…"

Grinning, Soul continued where his sister had left off. "Yeah, our dad just went through the big D. Our mom took him to the fuckin' cleaners; it was a miracle that he got custody."

"Excuse me? A miracle?" Maka asked him indignantly. "I don't want to live with that sleazeball through the rest of high school, thank you very much. If I had things my way, I'd be back with our loving, not-cheating mother."

"You kidding? I hate that bitch, she's almost as bad as dad."

Maka was beyond bewildered. "Excuse me, did you just call our mother a bitch? She as not, she was a lovely and pleasing woman who never once looked at a porno!"

"You _would_ think that, wouldn't you? You didn't have to lay awake by their room every night and listen to them fight! Believe me, Maka, our mother has the mouth of a sailor."

Kidd reclined slightly, listening to the two siblings bicker. He supposed he could feel for them and both their points of view, but…a family that had been separated like that, in Kidd's opinion, was less than symmetrical. The lack of symmetry did horrible things to those involved, and there were few things that could repair it.

He would've continued to contemplate this, but his thoughts were thrown away from the issue by the piercing ring of the bell. Lunch was over, and when he glanced down, he realized that only half of the meal he'd so painstakingly made symmetrical had actually been eaten. Life was too cruel…

Soul, now thoroughly mad at Maka again, got to his feet and glanced down at his schedule. English was next, and it would most likely prove to be another monumental waste of time. Anything to get him away from his sister, though. And as the boy turned, he suddenly remembered what he wanted to do – to ask about Crona's gender. But when he looked at the corner where Crona had been sitting, it was vacated, nothing but those same few scraps lying on the chipped blue surface of the table. Once again, Crona had slipped away from society into the darkness.

* * *

><p>"So, how was school?" was the first thing Spirit flamboyantly asked his children as they hopped off the bus and haughtily walked inside.<p>

"Soul hangs out with weirdos," Maka spat.

"Ah, Maka, good to see you're still a complete bitch," Soul spat back, not even looking at his sister.

"Now, now, you two, play nicely!" Spirit warned in that all-too-happy way of his. In actuality, he was probably addressing only his son, because his mind was either unable or unwilling to register what his daughter had said. "Daddy loves both of you very much!"

Groaning, Soul put a hand over his face. "Yeah, yeah, we get it, now shut your trap." He hopped up the stairs. "Call me down when dinner's here."

Upon arriving in his bare, minimal room, he shut the door and let his backpack slide to the floor. Crashing onto the bed, he unzipped his jacket and didn't even bother trying to hang it up, or even toss it aside; it merely fell off his back, half-covering his backpack. Soul's mind was in other places – namely, the cafeteria. Maka may not have known it, and it may not have been on purpose, but she had hit Soul pretty hard. The boy was still sore and resentful over his parents' divorce, and there were still emotions within him that he wasn't willing to let come to the surface. Like how afraid he was of their tempers, and how he couldn't lay all the blame on Spirit; after all, if his mother had put out once in a while, his father probably wouldn't have needed to cheat (although there was a good chance he might've done so anyway). But it wasn't like Spirit was guilt-free, either. And then Soul was left right in the middle of things, being tugged by each side, and he was damn tired of it. There was a pervading loneliness that he felt, even in the house; as if the day his parents had split, something inside of him had split, too.

When he was with Black*Star and Kidd and Tsubaki, he was able to forget about all those feelings. He had been able to laugh at Black*Star's crazy antics and Kidd's obsession with symmetry. And then, just when things were going great and he was high on the roller coaster, Maka had to come in and ruin the ride. To put things bluntly, Soul felt miserable when he considered the divorce, no matter how lightly he might speak of it. Everything was just a charade to keep up the status quo. Besides, Soul Albarn was _way_ too cool to let his feelings show.

And that thought led him to another – Crona. Crona, the shy kid of undetermined gender. The kid who intrigued Soul because Soul felt like there was someone else out there who might understand how he felt. Crona was someone with whom Soul wanted to make a connection.

That was how Soul decided that the following day, the first chance he got, he was going to talk to Crona; he was going to ask Crona's gender.


	3. Thinking

Crona wasn't at school the next day. Soul had been waiting to see the kid ever since he walked into Dr. Stein's biology class, which smelled heavily of the awful, bitter stench of formaldehyde that caused peoples' eyes to water and those with less fortitude than others to faint. All through the waiting, all through the horrendous stench that was liable to destroy brain cells, Soul waited like a patient dog. Leaning back against his desk, he kept his eyes fixed upon the door, fingers clenching around the desk's frame when the door would open; fingers relaxing when it turned out Crona wasn't there. _Where the hell is that kid…?_

"Good morning, biology!" The classroom door flew open, nearly lifting off and breaking its hinges, and in the doorway stood Black*Star, fists on his waist. Sporting a grin that would make the Cheshire Cat proud, he strolled in calmly, as if he owned the place. "Today feels like a great day to be awesome." Hopping into his seat, legs criss-crossing on top of his desk, he shot a grin at Soul. "What's up, Soul?"

With a frustrated groan, Soul wiped his forehead with his eyes closed. Quietly, he muttered, "Waiting for Crona."

"Whooooaaaa, you've been waiting for Crona all this time?" It had become apparent to Soul, even after only a few days, that Black*Star's main talent was ruining everything anyone wanted to remain relatively unknown. Usually, that entailed shouting it so that everyone would hear, an audible gasp sweeping the room, and everyone ending up looking at Soul like he was high off Spirit's prescription pills.

"…Yes." Soul sat down, his face bright red with embarrassment. "I've been stuck in this damn class smelling these damn chemicals for an entire fucking hour waiting for that little bitch to show up… And it was all for nothing. And now everyone knows and I can already hear them making fun of me. This is so uncool…"

Black*Star shrugged his shoulders and let them settle upon his muscular frame. "Crona's gone every now and then, don't sweat it. You don't need anyone else around, though, when you have someone as awesome as me to keep you company!" Smiling, he pointed his thumb at himself and was probably imaging banners (mis)spelling his name, and confetti and bright, multi-colored streamers falling around the classroom. "I'm far better to have around!"

Soul couldn't help but chuckle once again at his classmate's antics, and he silently told himself that Black*Star was good to have around on only certain occasions. Namely, _not_ Soul's birthday. But other times, like when one wanted to blow off some steam and unwind all of the complicated emotions that the day yielded, then the blue-haired boy would be perfect company. However, there was a small, nagging feeling in the back of Soul's head that bit at him like a relentless maggot; something about Crona's absence was slightly unsettling. But the boy couldn't exactly put his finger on it.

Blinking, Black*Star's fingers dug slightly into his cheeks, and his right eyebrow jumped up onto his forehead. "…You alright, man?"

"Huh…? What do you mean?" Soul asked, his voice in a misty monotone. He didn't even look at the blue-haired boy, and did almost as much to actually address him. Once again, his mind was in different places, wondering about the pink-haired student that was still, very noticeably, absent. Five of Soul's fingers tapped against his cheek, and then, like rhythmic and hypnotic clockwork, his other five fingers tapped against the desk. Melting into the repetition, Soul stared blankly into a vast oblivion, mind almost shutting down save for successive, manic thoughts about Crona. Where was Crona, where was Crona, where was Crona…? The question swirled around Soul's head as though being whipped around by a rough, slicing wind that stabbed the boy's insides every chance it got.

Chuckling nervously, Black*Star waved a hand in front of Soul. "Yoohoo, you awake in there…? You're just kinda…looking, and since I'm so awesome I like helping everyone. So c'mon, Soul, snap out of it." As an added measure, a signature black*Star smile was thrown into the mix.

A minute passed, and then two minutes passed, and Soul finally blinked and turned to face Black*Star, slightly dazed and a bit unsure of where exactly he was. "H-Hmm…?" At first glance, Stein's classroom was somewhere he'd never been before; as his brain began to turn back on and his normal processes started to work again, familiarity finally struck him and he relaxed. For what seemed like an eternity, he had been within a small space that was quite dark the closer one got to the horizon. This space was almost unoccupied, except for Soul and one other person – Crona, who was huddled where the light transitioned to dark; in the twilight. Crona's back was hunched and the kid's body trembled with each movement that Soul slowly realized were sobs. But it seemed that every step Soul took towards Crona pushed him further away, until he was eventually running at full speed and losing precious air. And then he was suddenly back in Dr. Stein's room, Black*Star's face inches from his own.

"You okay?" Black*Star asked again.

"O-Oh… Yeah, I'm fine." He ran his hand through his hair, trying to get some composure back; the current moment was the worst time to be uncool. After shaking his head and gluing on a confident smile, he nodded to Black*Star. "No problem." His words and expression had the desired effect, and they put all of Black*Star's concerns to rest. Finally finding a moment to relax, Soul eased back in his seat, putting his hands behind his head although intending to use them as a pillow. In fact, he might've fallen asleep right there if not for the sharp ring of the bell and the sleepy murmurs of students as they reluctantly lugged their bodies to first period.

With one eye propped open, Soul spied Kidd through the classroom's open door. There were two women with him, both wearing almost identical outfits: a scarlet, sleeveless top and a black tie, with tight-fitting black jeans accentuating the curves of their legs and their round, most likely firm asses. Soul's first thought was to wonder who they were, something that was quickly pushed out of the way by the sudden urge to drool uncontrollably. However, he had to quickly stop himself as Kidd entered the room.

After Stein had pegged Black*Star in the head with another heavy, leather-bound book, he released the class to continue their dissections and diagramming. It was during this, when Tsubaki was helping her woozy boyfriend draw a rat's arm muscles, that Soul slid over to Kidd.

"So, who are those two babes you had with ya?" he asked with a slightly perverted grin that was more than probably a trait he'd picked up from his father. What Soul was banking on was that there was enough of a joking tone to his voice that Kidd didn't take things the completely wrong way.

Not skipping a beat, Kidd replied in a sour voice, "None of your business." His eyes drifted back to the rat and he finished drawing a perfectly symmetrical depiction of the poor animal's muscle structure. But the more he tried to concentrate his senses to his work, he couldn't shake Soul's eyes upon the back of his head. After a few minutes where he nearly demolished his diagram's impeccable symmetry, Kidd sighed in frustrated defeat. "Why is this so important to you?"

"Just interested," Soul mused, examining his fingernails with one eye and watching Kidd with the other. "What, can't I be curious about those babes you have with you? …Or are you the kinda guy who can bag two at one time-?"

"If you _must_ know," Kidd interjected, jaw twitching and eyes closed in an attempt to find his happy place, "they're my sisters by adoption."

Now it was Soul's turn to desperately search for his happy place. Wasn't Spirit the only man on the face of the Earth who would make such a stupid mistake? In Soul's mind, what he'd done was so much the opposite of cool that it didn't even register on the scale. "…Sorry," he apologized a bit quietly. "I didn't realize…" In a muddled attempt to laugh it off, he ended up reaching his hand up and smashing it into the lab table. As a result, Kidd's pencil flew in a jagged path across his page.

Kidd had to be taken the nurse's office on a stretcher.

* * *

><p>"How is my super sweet daughter who has the world's most loving father?" Spirit asked in a tone that oozed of enthusiasm and desperation as the front door closed.<p>

"Doing just fine," Soul answered in annoyance as he kicked off his shoes. A big red vein on the boy's forehead pulsated wildly, dangerously close to breaking. Soul's eyes were closed as he concentrated and concentrated on keeping his temper under control. "Oh, you might've noticed, _dad_. Maka's not exactly here right now."

Spirit did a double-take when he realized that his son, not his precious daughter, was on the welcome mat. The man was so used to Maka being the first person in the door that his body had become accustomed to paying her a compliment whenever the front door opened after school. Blinking a few times, he peered around to see if she had slipped in without him knowing. "Where are you, Maka…?"

"Hanging out with her new friends."

"Maybe she's just late… Bad traffic on her route home…? Oh, I hope she doesn't get into a wreck because I'm still getting the proper insurance for her car…!"

"Are you even listening to me? "Soul asked, growing more and more incensed every moment his very presence was ignored by his own father. The unusually large vein in his forehead was coming within inches of popping. "I told you, she's-"

"I wonder if maybe she found some friends to hang out with."

Throwing up his hands in angered defeat, Soul haughtily marched right past Soul. He didn't bother looking back to see if the man acknowledged his leaving; frankly, Soul didn't care either way. After a long day at school, he wanted nothing more than to flop down by himself and not do his homework.

Soul considered himself an expert at throwing his school stuff to the side, where it couldn't bother him, and lying on the bed, staring up at the unpainted ceiling with its small drywall bubbles. Unfortunately, this practice was counterproductive to the boy's main goal of not doing anything, because as he lay there, his mind started to do the most infernal, traitorous thing it could: thinking. Soul had despised thinking ever since the divorce proceedings had started; far too much of his inner bitterness rose to the surface when he was given time to mull things over alone. Most of that bitterness was hatred geared towards the family he resented more than any school assignment. Raising a fist to the ceiling, Soul growled and muttered, "Any other. I wish I could have any family other than this one. Anything would be better than this shithole I'm in…"

That always led him to where the rest of his bitterness resided – to the chilling consideration that perhaps the entire debacle was _his_ fault. Maybe that was why Spirit ignored him and centered all his love and energy towards Maka; because she was the good child, the one who always did her homework on time and helped to cook dinner and never swore too loud, if she swore at all. Soul, on the other hand…he was the problem child, and he knew it.

"…They always fought with me…" he murmured to no one in particular. It was almost as if he was on a couch in some psychiatrist's office, letting all his troubles be brought to light. Except there, there would be someone to hear him; when he was alone, it didn't matter whether he talked or not. He'd still be the only one to know. "It didn't matter if it was homework, or staying out late, or playing too many video games…" The memories floated by like feathers softly dancing on a cool afternoon breeze: his mother and father always loomed over him, with the sternest expressions on their faces. At first, their voices would be kind and understanding, but no matter what Soul said or did, be they in earnest or not, his parents' voices would rise into a shouting match.

Eyes half-closed, Soul tried to stop himself from becoming too emotional. However, it was too late, and tears were already sliding out of his eyes, running down the side of his face and dripping onto the bed sheets, leaving light circular spots. There was still a need to speak out loud, though, so Soul reduced his voice to something that one wouldn't expect from him; to a gentle, almost vulnerable, tone. "Th-They argued with me… Fought with me, a-and soon, they w-were…they were fighting with each other." Quietly sniffling, his thoughts continued, pouring out of his mouth at such a speed that he was unable to control them. "S-Soon, it was about what w-was wrong with me, in private… A-And then, how each one was wrong a-and stupid… F-Finally, it wasn't even ab-about me, i-it was…jus' yelling at each other…f-for no reason…" He wiped his eyes and nose, which was running, mucus mixing with tears. "I-I started this…! I-I caused all this unhappiness, a-and there's nothing I-I can d-do about it…! Th-This is so u-uncool…! Maka has an excuse t-to not like me…!" He would never admit to the things he was doing – the crying , the curling up on the bed, the confessions of weakness. But they were there, buried underneath the grinning exterior that he'd so painstakingly crafted in an attempt to not have to feel what he was feeling right then. But, without fail, when he was alone, his defenses would crumble and he would succumb to the vulnerability that was purely his.

Such was the reason Soul hated thinking.

* * *

><p>"Maaaaan, you don't look good." Black*Star poked Soul's cheek curiously. "You get any sleep last night?"<p>

"Of course not," Soul grumbled. "…Cuz of my goddamn homework," he added, making sure to add in a chuckle that would put the others at ease and keep up the status quo of cool. In reality, Soul hadn't been able to sleep because he was too absorbed in the infernal activity called thinking. He had been going over his memories, blaming himself for the divorce and his parents' mutual hatred. Not even a taste test of his father's sleeping pills had helped.

He ended up having to beg and beg Tsubaki for her answers to Stein's insane homework, since he hadn't even had time for it between eating and thinking. Thankfully, her answers were far more coherent than Black*Star's ever could, and in a few minutes, Soul could proudly hand in a completed assignment. And he was ready to shatter walls by handing in a _complete_ assignment _before_ the bell when he happened to glance backwards. Soul became a bit excited to see Crona sitting at the corner desk, no matter how lonely the kid looked. Profusely thanking Tsubaki again, he stood up and made his way to the back corner, which was almost like a magnet for gloom.

And then Soul waited, standing over Crona; waiting to be acknowledged. And when those downtrodden eyes finally looked up, they couldn't lock with anything above the chest of the black and yellow jacket. "O-Oh… S-Soul, right…?" The kid's whole body was shaking, which only got worse when a paper floated onto the desk. Crona squeaked in confusion and a small bit of fear.

"They're the answers," Soul explained concisely. "I heard that you rarely do it, so maybe this'll be a bit of help." But he couldn't help but get annoyed when he wasn't even thanked; all Crona did was stare at the paper as though it were some feral monster.

"H-He's giving me answers… I don't know how to deal with this…" Crona's head swiveled back and forth. "N-No one's ever…g-given me answers before…"

Growling, his sharp canines glinting slightly in the sheen of the fluorescent lights, Soul put his hands in his pockets. "Look, just take the damn answers!" But he immediately regretted saying that, as it only sent Crona into more of a nervous fit. Muttering nonsense to himself, Soul attempted to remedy the situation he'd tailor-made. "…Sorry I yelled, just…take it… I spent a lot of time copying these answers, so the least you can do is take 'em with a smile, okay?"

Neck craning up, Crona stared at Soul with an expression that meant the kid was ready to explain just how much one pink-haired mess could deal with taking answers. But before that happened, the boy who was standing noticed something that he couldn't believe he hadn't before. "…Crona, what the hell's wrong with your cheek?" He wouldn't have put money on it, but Crona's reaction was quick as the bandage was sloppily covered up by a delicate, quivering hand.

"N-Nothing…!"

Bending down to get a closer look, Soul noticed that there was bruising coming out from under the bandage. "…Shit, did someone beat you up? That why you weren't here yesterday?"

"N-No, I was…j-just sick…! A-And I didn't know h-how to deal with it, s-so I…!" But Crona couldn't think straight enough to continue talking. The kid's arms were wrenched away by a Soul who looked quite mad.

"Don't fucking lie to me! And don't change the fucking subject; now tell me what I wanna know!" The movements and yelling were leaving Crona in an extremely uncomfortable, vulnerable position, one that the kid did not enjoy at all. Eyes beginning to tear up, Crona attempted to pull away from Soul, sobbing out, "I-I…I dunno how…how t'…t' deal…"

Soul hadn't been aware of how much he was biting off by trying to be friendly. But now, he felt, he was in too deep, so the best thing to do would be to just calm down and be cool. Letting go of Crona, he sat on his knees so that he was at a more even level with the emotional mess. "…I'm not pissed at you… You understand?"

It took a minute, but Crona nodded.

"I wanna ask you a question or two. Is that okay?" Once again, it took a minute, but a hesitant nod came. When he was sure he'd gotten the okay, Soul continued. "Where did you get that bruise?" This time, though, Crona's head shook, and the answer was finally clear to Soul that, at the moment, he wasn't getting anything to budge. Letting it fall to rest, Soul tried something else. "You want the homework?"

"…Yes," Crona whispered, almost as if afraid to let that voice rise anymore than it already was. "I-I didn't have time…yesterday. …I-I…don't know how to deal…w-with…not having enough time…"

Soul smiled a tad bit, sensing that he was making headway. Now came the question to which he wanted an answer the most. "Crona…are you a boy or a girl?"

Immediately, Crona's head was shaking like it was on bobblehead. "I-I don't know…h-how to deal with this…!" Whatever calm that might've existed within the pink-haired kid's mind was beginning to dissolve. It was as if that question was a taboo; something not to be discussed, and when it was brought up, Crona's only choice was to react very negatively. It didn't help that the kid was being firmly held down by Soul on the shoulders.

"Calm the hell down!" Soul said in a commanding tone, like he was a sergeant who'd been trained for such a situation. "Just take a deep fuckin' breath and tell me what I wanna know!" Was Soul bossy? Of course he was, but where he was at that moment, he thought it was a necessary evil; that getting the information he wanted was more important than how Crona felt. Perhaps it was a bad plan. By that time, Crona was flat-out crying, trying to get away from Soul; everyone in the class, including Black*Star and Kidd and Tsubaki, was watching the scene unfold with a mixture of shock and fear. No one else had ever shaken Crona that way; no one else had ever yelled so much.

It took a few minutes for Crona to calm down to the point where it wasn't impossible to understand the words that flowed out of the kid's mouth. By that moment, the entire room had its eyes and ears trained on the small desk in the corner, waiting with bated breath. If a pin dropped, it would echo as if it had been a scream in a cave.

The first time Crona said it, it was too quiet for the air right next to Crona to hear. Soul's face screwed up and he leaned in, asking, "What was that?"

Crona's lips shook, eyes pointed towards the floor. The three words came again, still soft as down, but loud enough for only Soul to hear. "I-I'm…I'm a…I-I'm a boy…"


End file.
